POST CHILDHOOD STRESS

   

The following article was published in N-SPHERE October 2010 issue.

 

Some find it difficult to mourn over a dead flower. But to the truthful naked eye, seeing the petal’s last breath is as easy as a walk in the park. Sing a feeble song for the dear departed souls you cannot sculpt anymore and draw thick lines on the blessed retina as you turn your eyes inside. Black harps invite you to merge with the sound burnt by sunlight of the dying sky, and take a seat at the head of the table. Assume the office of the lonely gardener and bring forth the tools of your justice.

So, may the infants come and play over the remnants of the soil you tended. They just as well might laugh a little more before dumping their nightmares on the concrete walls of your garden. And do something about those horrid noises. You should know best how the creatures howl and squeak as they grow, change skin, develop steel limbs. It hurts them too. Remember that you’re not only a mere gardener. However, that doesn’t mean you got to do whatever you want whenever you want. You hold a high position so, as long as you are here, and that is for quite a while, entertain the products of your original recipe fertilizer. Make the poor worms smile once more in their miserable lifetime. And hand out stupid painted ceramic gifts and creepy butterflies under the moon.

That’s how your tiny isolated naïve kingdom should be run. If you want to be reappointed that is. Pay heed to this free advice I’m giving. I have no interest in seeing you fail. And besides, the family picture would not be the same without you, and the dressed up children would feel uncomfortable without you at their side, or at least lurking somewhere at the back of the school bus. And the last thing they need is a karmic get together scheduled in the near future.

by Bahak B

artwork by Vel Thora

Full article here.